59. Declan

Chapter 59

Declan

A s I stepped out of Larinda’s house, a wave of tropical heat and salty air assaulted my senses. I tipped my head back, laughed, and sucked as much of the ocean into my lungs as I could hold. It felt good to be back on the island.

I had intended to head straight to the Well’s hidden cavern, but Larinda insisted I remain in the village for at least a week of feasting and celebration.

If the people of the island treated me as a conquering hero and a brother returned from certain death, they practically worshiped Ayden.

Bringing him bore too many risks to count, but in my heart, I knew it was right. The Well’s magic would keep him from remembering anything beyond the village and her people, but still . . .

I’d expected a stern scolding from Larinda when I showed up with him by my side. I’d even prepared a speech for her, listing all the reasons Ayden deserved to join me on this return, and swearing to safeguard his memory—or wipe it—should the Keeper wish it so.

But the old woman had simply wrapped him in her spindly arms and kissed his cheeks.

Oh, she ruffled his hair, too.

No one with flaming red hair had ever set foot on the isle, and every villager, including the Mother of them all, was fascinated with his pale skin and the freckles they claimed mirrored the night sky’s constellations. I walked in his shadow by the end of that first day.

No place in the world felt so much like home as the tiny village of Rea Utu.

As expected, the villagers offered more than feasts and songs.

They shared tears, grief, and open arms. The island sheltered its people from the horrors of the war, but they felt órla’s death more deeply than anyone could, save her Bond-Mate.

I had never before known such shared grief—nor had I witnessed comfort offered so freely.

The people of the island truly were one.

Ayden and I stood at their center as love and compassion flowed in waves as enduring as their beloved sea.

They restored my soul.

I turned at the sound of Larinda shuffling up behind us on her porch. “Ya be leavin’ t’day? Goin’ to see t’ Keeper?”

I nodded. “I love being here with you and our family, but my people on the continent need me, too. And . . . well . . . Ayden and I have business with the Keeper.”

“Well, fine. Go up to yer mountain, but I wan’ a day when ya come back down, before ya go home. I fear we won’t see ya much after this visit.”

I surprised the old woman, wrapping her in a tight embrace and lifting her off her feet. Ayden wrapped his arms around us both, and Larinda squealed in delight. “You might be surprised, Mother Larinda. I don’t like staying in one place too long. I might just come back every winter to avoid the cold—and to see a few people I’ve come to care a bit about.”

“A bit?” She cackled, a sound that always warmed my heart. “Ya do t’at, boy. Ya hear?”

Children raced around us as we left the village, grabbing at our fingers or jumping on our legs. They begged me to make my tunic flare, clapping and cheering wildly each time the golden Phoenix glowed so brightly they thought she might take flight. Ayden seemed to enjoy himself even more than the younglings, grabbing one and tossing him into the air before reaching down to tickle the next.

We reached the mountain’s base, and memories of a fuzzy little owl danced before me on the magical stones of the stair. As a tear rolled down my cheek, I smiled. Ayden gripped my hand.

“I didn’t know how much I loved that little owl until she was taken from me. I . . . I have no idea how to fill the void. I guess that’s one of the main reasons I wanted to come back to the island.”

Ayden’s arm wrapped around me as we walked up the path, the stones lighting their magical hues with each stride. “Thank you for bringing me here. This place is unlike anything I could have imagined.”

I smiled fondly. “Just wait until you meet . . .”

“Back so soon, young man?”

Ayden nearly leaped out of his boots.

The Keeper and I exchanged a quick glance, then both of us began to laugh.

The old man rose and hobbled to face me, gripping my arms with skeletal fingers. “It is good to see you again, Son of Magic. Welcome home.”

The Keeper laid one hand on Ayden’s arm and the other on mine. In a flash, the old man vanished, and the two of us stood in the chamber of the Well of Magic surrounded by glowing crystals and curling magical mist.

“My baby boy, I missed you so much.”

My mother gripped my arms where the Keeper had just stood. Her smile beamed as she pulled me toward her into a warm embrace.

“It’s good to be home, mother.”

“Mother?” Ayden hissed beside me. When I looked up, all color had drained from his face, making him even more pale than normal.

Kels? reached up and cupped his cheek. “It is good to meet the man who stole my son’s heart. We will have words before this visit is done.”

He blinked.

His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again.

He looked to me, and I shrugged.

Kels? began to laugh.

“Come, boys, you must be hungry.” She cast a glance over her shoulder as she strode away, winking at Ayden. “I know Declan is always hungry. Good thing I have a pantry full of magic to help fill him up.”

Her laughter echoed off the cavern walls as she led us through the mountain maze to her kitchen. The confounding woman already had pots boiling and meat sizzling in a pan. The smell of pork, beans, and roasting potatoes with garlic assaulted my senses. She caught my eyes rolling back and giggled like a teenage girl.

“I am not sure how, but I knew you would come today. The currents speak loudly these days. Some days it feels as though they positively scream.”

“Bless the currents if they let me eat like this.” Ayden shook his head as he scanned the feast before us.

Kels? swatted his hand away with a wooden spoon just as she would if I had reached for a taste. The familiarity of her gesture toward him warmed my heart in ways I could scarcely understand.

“Go clean up. You are sandy from the walk across the beach. This should be ready in a half hour or so.” She swatted him again, then shooed me with her wooden weapon.

When we returned, the ledge-side table was laden with platters and plates. We ate with little care for the world, enjoying the simple pleasure of a reunion between mother and son—no, between mother and sons.

“I nearly forgot how much I love this wine,” I said as I downed my fourth glass and promptly refilled it.

Ayden swilled his glass like the lordling he was, then took a long sip. “Is this one of the privileges of magical rank?”

I rolled my eyes.

Kels? didn’t miss a beat. “It is the privilege, aside from all the Gifts and amazing glowing clothing.”

My tunic flared as though appreciating her humor.

Ayden’s eyes widened.

Kels? sipped her wine, and her eyes drifted. “After a thousand years, it still amazes me how it changes with my mood. One minute fruity, the next like chocolate, then dry. There were only ten of us when the wine was crafted, but I never knew who was responsible. I would name something after that Mage if I could figure it out.”

I raised my glass. “I’d name the whole continent after whoever made this stuff.”

Over the hours that followed, I recounted my journey home, discovering the destruction of Grove’s Pass, and the subsequent invasion. Ayden finished as many sentences as I started, earning a wry grin that rarely left Kels?’s lips.

When I detailed órla’s sacrifice and my voice broke, my mother rose and held me tight against her.

A moment later, Ayden’s arms joined hers around my shoulders.

The stubborn child gave way as sobs racked the man.

Kels? owned no words or magic salve to heal my wounds, only a mother’s gentle grace and abiding love. She and Ayden held me until the sun rested below the mountains. When I finally rose from their embrace, she gathered our plates and left us to enjoy the bright, moonlit night on the mountainside ledge.

Another glass of wine vanished before we finally rose and wandered to the stone circles on the far side of the ledge.

“These stones are ancient beyond ancient,” I explained. “They are a magnifier of magic, used to amplify power and, more recently, as a training aid for one wayward Son of Magic.”

“Wayward sounds about right. The rest is just grand posturing.”

I punched him playfully in the arm.

“Abuse! Do not make me call upon your good mother!” He gripped where I’d punched and pretended to rub feeling back into his muscles.

“Such a fucking lordling.” I couldn’t stop smiling.

I absently ran a hand along the ancient surface of a nearby stone, and warmth rebounded at my touch.

“What? I know that look,” Ayden said.

“It’s odd. The stone . . . it pulsed or tingled or flared heat . . . something. They never did that before.”

I walked to the circle’s center and stared into the perfectly polished scrying bowl on its pillar. No one cared for its metal, but magic maintained its perfect surface. After everything I’d been through and witnessed, after everything I’d learned, magic still brought a sense of wonder each time I witnessed its handiwork.

I turned my gaze skyward and stared into the darkened heavens at the twinkling of countless stars. “Are they Spirits, as some think, or just bright magical lights?”

I sat on the ground with my back to a stone, still staring up. Ayden joined me, then gripped my hand and laced our fingers. “I do not know—or care much. They are pretty and constant.”

I snorted. “Truer words . . .”

I needed constant in that moment.

Our feet dangled off the cliff’s edge.

“I felt such terror sitting here the first time. Feels like a lifetime ago.”

“A lifetime, it was,” he mused, squeezing my hand.

I shook my head.

“During that lifetime, I found—and lost—órla.” I couldn’t help thinking about her flying among the stones, bathing in the sacred waters of the bowl, annoying me while I struggled to master the most basic magics.

“I still feel her in this place. I feel her tottering up beside me, hopping onto my shoulder, nuzzling her beak into my neck.” My hand reflexively reached up and rubbed the spot she loved to nuzzle the most.

A part of me felt such emptiness, but in that melancholy moment, I realized something even more powerful.

“I know this will sound strange, but I just realized something. The people I cared for most remained in my life. My mother, my island family, Atikus—Keelan.”

He squeezed my hand again.

“Above all, you.” It was my turn to squeeze. “I even gained magic along the way, something I never imagined possible in my wildest dreams.”

He looked at me sideways, a lopsided grin on his lips.

“Fine, that’s not true. My childhood dreams always included a wild-haired magician saving the day with his incredible Enchantments and charms.”

I chuckled at the image of a dandelion-puff streaking through the Mages’ Guild wielding a willow branch for a wand as old men scurried out of the way or trailed in his wake.

I leaned my head back against the cold stone pillar and recalled my brother, all salt and gruff even at the tenderest age, standing watch over my every step.

I closed my eyes and sighed at the image of Atikus, the kindly old man who let me perch on his knee the first day we’d entered the guild’s vaunted halls.

Then I thought of Ayden. I turned and stared at his fiery mane flowing past his shoulders as moonlight kissed his skin. My pulse quickened, and my heart leaped, knowing my life would be long and full thanks to a man I detested not so long ago.

Together, Ayden and I sat on the edge of the world with our backs to magic pillars . . . and we smiled.